The Cowboy Dirndl

I blew all my wages on theology and am now v. broke. Fortunately I had the forethought to buy all my fabric at the beginning of the month and stockpile it for just such an eventuality. I found this wicked vintage fabric online at Eureka, I Found it!. It’s a border print that just screamed to be made into a swishy skirt.

I spent a grand total of about 2 hours this evening whipping it up into another dirndl. This time I only had to sew one seam because I just used the whole length of the fabric as one big panel and stitched that up the back. And, of course, because it’s a border print, I didn’t have to hem. Sadly, I didn’t splash out on quite as much fabric as for the mermaid dirndl, so it’s a bit less full. Also, the gathers and waistband went together with more difficulty than the last one (I never did read any instructions for Fuse & Fold… I should work on that) so even though it looks just as presentable from the outside, I know it’s not perfect and therefore love it slightly less. (This is part of the reason why I’m terrified of having children.)

I came to love the mermaid skirt in the less than 24 hours between deciding on impulse to give it to my friend Gaia and actually parting with it, so it was a bit of a wrench to see her put it on and float away into the night. But she’s had a rough time at work lately and needs a little stardust sprinkled into her life. This skirt will do perfectly for me. I can’t wait to bring my cowboys into Parliament.

I love how easy it is to be ladylike in vintage designs. I don’t love how often ladylike = uncomfortable when it comes to wearing 20th-century clothes in the British climate. Realistically, I’m going to freeze my ‘tocks off in this flimsy little skirt. How did our mothers survive in all that cotton and rayon? Britain cast off a huge amount of baggage when it shed its petticoats and started following sinful American fashion, but sometimes, when I’m huddling in an exposed bus shelter for half an hour on end, I think it may have gone too far the other way. In my subterranean room with the blow heater on last night, I read this passage in Gwen Raverat’s charming Period Piece with envy:

This is what a young lady wore, with whom I shared a room one night — beginning at the bottom, or scratch:

1. Thick, long-legged, long-sleeved woollen combinations [like a modern union suit]

2. Over them, white cotton combinations, with plenty of buttons and frills.

3. Very serious, bony, grey stays [corset], with suspenders [garters].

4. Black woollen stockings.

5. White cotton drawers, with buttons and frills.

6. White cotton ‘petticoat-bodice’, with embroidery, buttons and frills.

7. Rather short, white flannel, petticoat.

8 Long alpaca [!] petticoat, with a flounce round the bottom.

9. Pink flannel blouse.

10. High, starched white collar, fastened on with stufs.

11. Navy-blue tie.

12. Blue skirt, touching the ground, and fastened tightly to the blouse with a safety-pin behind.

13. Leather belt, very tight.

14. High button boots.

I watched her under my eyelashes as I lay in bed. She would have been horrified if she had known that I was awake.

Horrified, probably… but warm.